Chapter 2

"We'll start from this wall," said Grumpy sulkily, "because it's always better to start from where you are than where you aren't."

Mr. Crow said that that seemed reasonable.

"When do you want to race?" he added.

"The sooner we start the quicker we'll finish," Grumpy Weasel snapped.

"Quite true, quite true!" Mr. Crow agreed. "And now may I inquire how long a race you want to run?"

"No longer than I have to!" Grumpy growled. "Not more than a day or two, I hope!"

Mr. Crow snickered slightly. "I see you don't understand my question," he observed. "Are you going to run a mile, or only a few rods?"

"How do I know?" Grumpy cried, as if he had no patience with his questioner. "How could anybody tell? I'll let Jimmy Rabbit start twenty jumps ahead of me and we'll run till I catch him."

Well, Mr. Crow laughed right out loud when he heard that. And he was about to tell Grumpy that he would have to run till the end of his days if he raced Jimmy Rabbit in any such fashion as that. But he saw all at once that such a race would be a great joke. And he said to himself with a chuckle that the laugh would be on Grumpy Weasel. For Jimmy Rabbit was so swift a runner that nobody who knew anything at all would ever consent to give him a start--much less propose such a thing.

"Very well!" said Mr. Crow with a smirk, "I'll report to Jimmy Rabbit. I'll tell him where, when and how you want to race, and there's no doubt that your plan will please him."

"I hope it won't!" Grumpy Weasel snarled. "I've never pleased anybody yet; and I don't mean to."

And that goes to show what an ill-natured scamp he was.

IX

SAVING HIS FEET

Old Mr. Crow and Jimmy Rabbit had a good laugh over Grumpy Weasel's plan for a race with Jimmy. They thought it a great joke.

"He needn't give me a start," Jimmy said. "I can beat Grumpy easily."

"Never mind that!" Mr. Crow advised. "You might as well let him have his way. He'll look all the more foolish, trying to catch up with you."

So Jimmy Rabbit agreed to run the race as Grumpy Weasel wished, saying that he was ready to start at once.

But Mr. Crow told him he had better wait till the next day. "That will give me time to tell everybody," he explained, "and then there'll be a big turnout to see you win--and to jeer at Grumpy Weasel for losing." And one could tell from Mr. Crow's remark that he liked Jimmy Rabbit and that he despised Grumpy Weasel.

The next day proved to be a fine one for the race. It wasn't too hot nor too cold; and early in the morning the field- and forest-people began gathering at Grumpy Weasel's hunting ground, where the stone wall touched the clearing.

About the only persons that objected to the time set for the race were Benjamin Bat and Solomon Owl. Benjamin said that he could never keep awake to watch it; and Solomon complained that he couldn't see well in the daytime. But all the rest of the company were in the best of spirits, giggling slyly whenever they looked at Grumpy Weasel, who seemed to pay scant heed to his neighbors, though you may be sure his roving black eyes took in everything that was going on. He seemed more restless than ever as he waited for Jimmy Rabbit to arrive, walking to and fro on his front legs in a most peculiar fashion, while he kept his hind feet firmly planted on the ground in one spot. Of course he could never have moved about in this manner had his body not been so long and slender.

Noticing Grumpy's strange actions, old Mr. Crow looked worried and asked him what was the matter. "I hope your hind feet aren't troubling you, just as the race is about to begin," he said.

Grumpy Weasel hissed at the old gentleman before he replied: "Don't worry! You'll soon see that my hind feet can travel as fast as my front ones--when I want to use them."

"Ah!" Mr. Crow exclaimed knowingly. "He's saving his hind feet for the race."

When Jimmy Rabbit reached the gathering place, coming up in a long lope, Mr. Crow hurried to meet him.

"I advise you to save your hind feet," he whispered. "Grumpy Weasel is saving his."

Jimmy Rabbit told Mr. Crow, with a smile, that he had saved his hind feet all his life--and his front ones, too.

"I've brought them along to-day," he said, "to help me win this race."

X

HA! AND HA, HA!

A great outcry rang through the woods the moment Jimmy Rabbit set out to race Grumpy Weasel and beat him. Shouts of "Good luck!" and "Run hard!" and "Hurrah for James Rabbit!" followed Jimmy. But old Mr. Crow squawked, "You don't need to hurry!" He thought that the race was already as good as won, for Grumpy Weasel had insisted on giving Jimmy Rabbit a start of twenty jumps.

Meanwhile Grumpy Weasel glowered. But he could not glower at Jimmy's friends, because he had to watch Jimmy himself in order to count the first twenty jumps he took. When Grumpy had counted nineteen and a half away he started. And old Mr. Crow, as he sat staring at the race, declared that Grumpy Weasel hadn't a chance to win.

The company seemed ready to take Mr. Crow's word for it--that is, all except Grumpy Weasel's cousin, Peter Mink. He spoke up and said that as for him, he would wait and see what happened. He didn't believe old Mr. Crow knew what he was talking about.

Mr. Crow grew almost a purplish black with rage.

"We'll all wait," he said stiffly. "We'll all wait. And when the race is over you will apologize to me."

Peter Mink merely grinned. He had no respect for his elders. And now he didn't appear to mind in the least when the entire company let him severely alone.

Mr. Crow shot a triumphant look at him about an hour later, when Jimmy Rabbit came bounding into sight, with no one following him. "You may as well stop now," Mr. Crow told Jimmy. "You've as good as won the race already."

Jimmy Rabbit said that he thought so, too, but he supposed he'd better keep running a while longer, till Grumpy Weasel gave up. So off he hopped again.

Everybody except Peter Mink laughed heartily when Grumpy Weasel came springing up the slope a little while later.

"You may as well stop now. You've as good as lost already," Mr. Crow greeted him.

"Whose race is this--yours or mine?" Grumpy Weasel hissed. And off he hurried, without pausing to hear Mr. Crow's answer.

"We'll wait a while longer," Mr. Crow told the company, "for the end is so near we may as well see it."

"Whose end?" Peter Mink asked him.

"I mean the end of the race, of course!" Mr. Crow squalled.

"Oh! I thought you meant the end of Jimmy Rabbit," Peter Mink replied.

"Impossible! Impossible!" was all Mr. Crow said to that. But he began to fidget--which was a sign that he was worried. And when Jimmy Rabbit appeared again Mr. Crow was not quite so cocksure when he asked if the race wasn't over.

"It would be," Jimmy Rabbit answered, "but the trouble is, Grumpy Weasel won't stop running!"

"Ha!" said Mr. Crow hoarsely. But Peter Mink said, "Ha, ha!" And there is a great difference between those two remarks, as we shall see.

XI

A LONG RACE

The famous race between Grumpy Weasel and Jimmy Rabbit went on and on. Jimmy turned and twisted this way and that, up and down and back and forth through Pleasant Valley. He could still run faster than Grumpy Weasel, it is true. But he was growing tired. Now and then Jimmy stopped to rest. And he kept hoping that Grumpy Weasel had become so weary that he had given up the chase.

But Grumpy Weasel never stopped once. And whenever Jimmy Rabbit spied him coming along his trail Jimmy would spring up with a sigh and rush off again.

He began to understand that such a race was no joke. He certainly didn't want to lose the race. And he certainly didn't want Grumpy Weasel to come up with him. He had always kept at a good safe distance from that ill-natured fellow. And Jimmy felt most uneasy now at the thought of Grumpy's catching him.

"He must be very hungry, after running so far," Jimmy Rabbit said to himself anxiously. "If he's as hungry as I am he wouldn't be a pleasant person to meet." And that thought made Jimmy run all the faster, for a time. But he soon found that he had to stop more often to rest. And to his great alarm Grumpy Weasel kept drawing nearer all the time.

At last Jimmy Rabbit became so worried that he swept around by the stone wall again and stopped to whisper to old Mr. Crow.

"He's still chasing me. And I can't run forever. What shall I do?" Jimmy asked the old gentleman.

"I'll think the matter over and let you know to-morrow," Mr. Crow muttered hoarsely. To tell the truth, he was alarmed himself. And he had no idea what Jimmy Rabbit could do to save himself from Grumpy Weasel.

While they talked, Grumpy's cousin, Peter Mink, watched them slyly.

"Who do you think is going to win the race?" he jeered.

Mr. Crow did not even turn his head. He felt very uncomfortable. But he tried to look unconcerned.

"Run along!" he said to Jimmy. "To-morrow I'll tell you what to do."

"To-morrow--" Jimmy Rabbit panted--"to-morrow will be too late."

Then all at once Mr. Crow had an idea. And he whispered something in one of Jimmy Rabbit's long ears that made the poor fellow take heart.

"All right!" Jimmy cried. "I'll see you again--sometime!" And away he ran, just as Grumpy Weasel came racing along the stone wall, looking as fresh as a daisy.

"You'd better stop and rest a while!" Mr. Crow croaked. "If you get too tired you'll never win."

"Rest!" Grumpy exploded. "I don't need to rest! I never felt better in my life, except that I'm pretty hungry. But I'm bound to win this race." As he spoke of feeling hungry he cast a longing glance at Jimmy Rabbit, who was just dodging out of sight behind a distant tree.

"Wait here a bit, anyhow!" Mr. Crow urged him. "Since you're sure to win--as you say--there can be no hurry." And Peter Mink too begged his cousin Grumpy to stop just a minute. And he laughed, "Ha, ha!" whenever he looked at Mr. Crow.

And strange to say, Mr. Crow said, "Ha, ha!" too.

XII

WINNING BY A TRICK

Grumpy Weasel wouldn't stop long with his cousin, Peter Mink, and old Mr. Crow and all the rest.

He was in a hurry to overtake Jimmy Rabbit. And after quarreling fiercely with the whole company--except his cousin--he sprang up with a wicked glitter in his black eyes and left without another word.

"That fixed him," said Mr. Crow knowingly.

"What did?" Peter Mink demanded.

"That rest!" Mr. Crow replied. "It gave Jimmy Rabbit just time enough to go where he's going." And that was all he would say.

Not until Grumpy Weasel returned some time later did any one know what Mr. Crow meant.

Grumpy Weasel was in a terrible temper when he came slowly back. Everybody could tell, without asking, that the race was ended.

"Where did you catch him?" Peter Mink asked his cousin.

Grumpy Weasel said in a few ill-chosen words that he hadn't caught Jimmy Rabbit at all, and that somebody had played a trick on him. He looked directly at Mr. Crow as he spoke.

"It wasn't Johnny Green, was it?" Mr. Crow inquired solemnly as he moved carefully to a higher limb.

Grumpy Weasel could tell, then, without a doubt, that it was Mr. Crow that had made him lose the race. Grumpy had followed hot on Jimmy Rabbit's tracks. And to his surprise they led straight toward the farm buildings. But Grumpy kept on and never stopped until he reached the farmyard fence where he crouched and watched Jimmy disappear--of all places!--right in the woodshed, where Johnny Green was picking up an armful of wood.

Of course Grumpy Weasel wouldn't think of entering such a dangerous place. And when he heard a shout and saw Johnny Green come out with Jimmy Rabbit in his arms he knew that Jimmy Rabbit had won the race, even if he had lost his freedom.

"It was that old black rascal, Mr. Crow, that put that notion into Jimmy Rabbit's head," Grumpy said savagely to himself as he turned and made for the woods. "They were talking together a little while ago."

And all the way back to the stone wall he kept thinking what he would do to Mr. Crow if he could ever get hold of him. So you can see that he must have looked very dangerous when he reached his hunting ground; and you can understand why Mr. Crow took pains to change his seat.

"I may have lost the race--through a trick," Grumpy hissed as he glared at Mr. Crow. "But one thing is certain: That young Jimmy Rabbit will trouble us no more. He's Johnny Green's prisoner."

"Nonsense!" cried Mr. Crow. "He'll escape some fine day."

"Nonsense! He won't!" Grumpy Weasel disputed. And he never begged Mr. Crow's pardon. And neither did Peter Mink apologize to the old gentleman, as Mr. Crow had said he would. So in one way Mr. Crow was wrong. But in another way he was right. For it wasn't a week before Jimmy Rabbit appeared in the woods again, as spry as ever.

XIII

SILLY MRS. HEN

Strange to say, Grumpy Weasel was trying to be pleasant. Of course he didn't really know how, for he always practiced being surly and rude. It must be confessed, too, that he had succeeded in making himself heartily disliked by everybody that knew him.

There were a few, however, who had yet to learn of Grumpy Weasel's bad traits. Among these was a foolish, fat hen who lived in Farmer Green's henhouse. And now Grumpy Weasel was doing his best to make a good impression on her.

It is no wonder, perhaps, that this lady was unaware of her caller's real nature. For Grumpy was careful, as a rule, to visit the farmyard only after dark. And being a person of quiet habits Mrs. Hen was always abed and asleep at that time.

Grumpy found it a bit difficult to chat with Mrs. Hen because old dog Spot was sprawled on the farmhouse steps; and naturally Grumpy felt like keeping one eye on him. But the other he turned, as well as he could, on Mrs. Hen, who was in the henyard looking for worms. Just outside the wire fence Grumpy Weasel crouched and told Mrs. Hen how well she was looking.

His pretty speeches pleased Mrs. Hen so much that she actually let a fat angleworm get away from her because she hadn't her mind on what she was doing. She noticed meanwhile that one of her neighbors was making frantic motions, as if she had something important to say. So Mrs. Hen sauntered across the henyard to find out what it was.

"Don't you know whom you're talking to?" the neighbor demanded in a loud whisper. "That's Grumpy Weasel--the worst rascal in all these parts."

Somehow that sent a pleasant flutter of excitement through Mrs. Hen. At the same time she couldn't quite believe the news, because her caller had said such very pleasant things.

"Don't worry!" she told her neighbor. "I'm old enough to look out for myself."

"I should say so!" her neighbor cried. "You're three years old if you're a day!"

"I'm not!" Mrs. Hen retorted. "I'm only two and a half." Her feathers were all ruffled up and she went straight back and told Grumpy Weasel what her neighbor had said about him.

"You don't believe that, I hope," Grumpy ventured.

Mrs. Hen clucked and tried to look wise. And at last she confided to Grumpy that her neighbor was a jealous creature and sure to speak ill of a stranger who came to call on anybody but herself.

Well, Grumpy Weasel told Mrs. Hen that he knew, when he first set eyes on her, that she was a sensible little body.

"You've a snug home here," he went on. "I can tell you that I'd like such a place to crawl into on a chilly, wet night." And though it was a warm, fine summer's day he shivered and shook, so Mrs. Hen could see.

And silly Mrs. Hen couldn't help feeling sorry for him.

XIV

GRUMPY VANISHES

Grumpy Weasel was quick to see that fat Mrs. Hen swallowed every word he said as greedily as if it had been an angleworm. "Yes! You have a fine house here," he said. "But of course you're crowded," he added gloomily, to show Mrs. Hen that he knew she had no place for him.

"Oh! Not at all!" Mrs. Hen assured him.

"And the door's always shut tight at night," he added, "on account of that prowling Tommy Fox."

"Yes! We have to be careful," said Mrs. Hen.

"And there's Peter Mink, too," Grumpy went on. "Don't leave an opening big enough for him! He can get through a small hole, too--any that's big enough for his head."

At that Mrs. Hen looked startled, as if she had just remembered something that made her feel uneasy.

"He couldn't get through a rat hole, could he?" she inquired nervously.

"Why--there isn't one here, is there?" Grumpy asked.

"There is an old one," she admitted. "It hasn't been used in my time."

"If I could see it I'd know at once whether Pete could crawl through it," Grumpy Weasel said, talking to himself--or so it seemed to Mrs. Hen.

"I'll show it to you gladly!" she cried. "Do come right in and look at our rat hole, Mr. Weasel!"

As she spoke, Mrs. Hen started for the henhouse. And after her crept Grumpy Weasel, hoping that nobody else would see him. So far as he could tell, the hens were all out of doors, scratching in the dirt. But suddenly Mrs. Hen's jealous neighbor began to set up a great squawking, calling upon Mrs. Hen to be careful, for she was in great danger.

Fat Mrs. Hen turned about with a vexed look upon her handsome but somewhat stupid face.

"Walk right in!" she said to Grumpy. "I must stop and settle with her. She has gone too far." And leaving Grumpy to find the rat hole without her help, Mrs. Hen fluttered across the henyard with her head thrust forward, to give her meddlesome neighbor a number of hard pecks and so teach her to mind her own affairs.

With a low chuckle Grumpy Weasel slipped inside the henhouse, where he found himself quite alone. It took him but a few moments to discover in one corner of the building the old rat hole of which Mrs. Hen had spoken.

And then he went to the door and looked out, for Mrs. Hen and her neighbor were making a terrific racket. He saw the end of the squabble. And soon Mrs. Hen came running back, with her feathers sadly rumpled, and her comb awry.

"I settled with her," she gasped. "And now tell me about the rat hole. Could Peter Mink get through it?"

"No, he couldn't!" Grumpy Weasel said. Then he dodged strangely back into the henhouse. And though Mrs. Hen hopped in after him she couldn't find him anywhere.

She couldn't understand it.

XV

THE GREAT MYSTERY

The story soon spread all around the farmyard, how fat Mrs. Hen had been seen talking with no less a rascal than Grumpy Weasel.

Everybody told her that it was a dangerous thing to do and that it was a wonder she had escaped, until Mrs. Hen began to feel that she was quite the most important person in the neighborhood. Even old dog Spot asked her some questions one day--some of which she could answer, and some of which she could not.

For one thing, she couldn't (or wouldn't) tell what way Grumpy left the farmyard. "He just jumped back and was gone before I knew it," she said.

"That's what they all say," said Spot. "He's so quick you never can see him go."

Now, Mrs. Hen ought to have explained that Grumpy Weasel disappeared from inside the henhouse. But she was not a person of much sense. By that time she began to think that perhaps Grumpy Weasel was as bad as the neighbors had said. And she was afraid that her relations might find fault with her if they learned that she had invited Grumpy to enter their house. Silly Mrs. Hen decided that she wouldn't tell what she had done. But she never tired of talking about what she called "the great mystery"--meaning "Where did Grumpy Weasel go?"

It was simple enough. To escape meeting old dog Spot, Grumpy Weasel had crawled into the old rat hole. It suited him quite well to do that, for more than one reason. Not only did he avoid trouble, but he found the other end of the rat hole. Silly Mrs. Hen had done exactly as he had hoped. She had shown him a way to get into the henhouse at night in spite of locks and bolts and doors. And Grumpy Weasel went off to the woods well pleased with himself.

"Perhaps, after all, it pays to be pleasant," he said--just as if that was a reason! But he stopped short all at once. "There's that stupid Mrs. Hen," he cried aloud. "She was pleasant; but it won't pay her, in the end!" So he decided on the spot that he would keep on being surly. It would be much easier for him, anyhow.

That very night Grumpy Weasel stole back to the henhouse. And he was just about to creep up to the old rat hole, pausing first to take a searching look all around, when he saw a motionless figure sitting on a low-hanging limb of a tree near-by. It was Solomon Owl. And Grumpy could see that he was staring at the rat hole as if he were waiting for somebody.

Grumpy Weasel knew at once that that rat hole was no safe place for him. Very gingerly he drew back into a deep shadow. And as he pondered silently he saw a huge rat step out of the hole. Solomon Owl swooped down and grabbed the fellow before he knew what was happening.

Well, Grumpy Weasel saw that all his trouble had gone for nothing. Silly Mrs. Hen hadn't known what she was talking about. If Solomon Owl was in the habit of watching that hole Grumpy certainly didn't mean to go near it.

Of course he was angry. But Mrs. Hen never learned what he said about her. No matter what remarks her neighbors made, she always insisted afterward that Grumpy Weasel was one of the most pleasant and polite gentlemen she had ever met.

XVI

GUARDING THE CORNCRIB

Grumpy Weasel never seemed to have anything but bad luck whenever he went near the farmyard. Perhaps that was the reason why he kept going back there, for he was nothing if not determined. Anyhow, he had found the hunting poor along his stone wall in the woods. And there was so much "game," as he called it, about the farm buildings that he thought it was silly to leave it for such scamps as Peter Mink and Tommy Fox and Fatty Coon.

So he took to loitering near Farmer Green's corncrib. And he was not at all pleased to find Fatty Coon there one evening. He wouldn't have spoken to Fatty at all had not that plump young chap hurled a cutting remark directly at him: "There are no chickens in this building. This is a corncrib."

"Don't you suppose I know that?" Grumpy retorted. "I've come here to guard the corn from mice and squirrels."

"There's no need of your doing that," Fatty Coon told him. "Have you never noticed those tin pans, upside down, on top of the posts on which the corncrib rests? How could a mouse or a squirrel ever climb past one of those?"

"There are ways," Grumpy Weasel said wisely.

"I doubt it," Fatty replied. "I don't believe the trick can be done."

Then, not to oblige Fatty, but to show him he was mistaken, Grumpy climbed a tree near-by, dropped from one of its branches to the roof of the corncrib, and quickly found a crack in the side of the building through which he slipped with no trouble at all.

Suddenly there was a great scurrying and scrambling inside. And soon Fatty Coon saw Frisky Squirrel and several of his friends--not to mention three frightened mice--come tumbling out and tear off in every direction.

Presently Grumpy Weasel stuck his head through a crack between two boards.

"Did you catch the robbers?" he called to Fatty Coon.

"They were too spry for me," Fatty told him. He wouldn't have stopped one anyhow, for Grumpy Weasel.

"Which way did they go, old Slow Poke?" Grumpy cried as he jumped down in great haste.

"Everywhere!" Fatty told him.

"Can't you be a little more exact? You don't think--do you?--that I can run more than one way at a time?"

"Why don't you run round and round in a circle?" Fatty suggested. "In that way you might catch at least half those youngsters--and perhaps all of them."

"That's the first real idea you ever had in your life!" Grumpy exclaimed--which was as near to thanking a person as he was ever known to come.

XVII

GRUMPY'S MISTAKE

As soon as Grumpy Weasel left to chase the squirrels and mice that he had frightened away from the corncrib Fatty Coon hurried into the building through a hole in the floor which nobody knew but himself.